Defoliating
by Haina
Summary: ExT. Sad one shot. It's like she's the ocean and he's the sky; because he's infinity and she's ephemeral. This is the aftermath of Eriol's wedding. [revised]


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Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Card Captor Sakura and all related art, characters and story are trademarks and property of CLAMP, Nelvana, Kodansha, NEP21, Tokyo Pop and associated parties. The characters of these works are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment only. I, Hally Dang, do not claim Card Captor Sakura and all related art, characters and story as my own property.

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Defoliating  
by Hally Dang

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It was raining on the day of his wedding.

She shivered in her silk bridesmaid gown. She forced a spurious smile as the wedding dragged on longer. She clutched onto her bouquet of white calla lilies as if it was her only lifeline. She stared straight ahead into the church halls and was amazed at how full it was this morning. He must have invited everyone in London, she decided. She heard the low monotone of the priest's voice cease as he ended reciting psalms from the Holy Bible.

For a moment, there was silence except for the soft splattering of rain against the stain glass windows lining the towering walls. Tomoyo closed her eyes.

She heard the soft "I do's" uttered followed by cheer and applause. She inhaled deeply. It would have been her. No, it should have been her.

She politely clapped her hands as she had done every time during rehearsals. She watched as the happy newlyweds walking down the aisle again into the cacophony of the gathering crowds shouting congratulations and well wishes.

She saw him turn around as he exited the old gothic church through the double doors. She knew he was looking into the throngs of people for her. And she knew he was thinking the same thing.

It was raining on the day of Eriol's wedding and it couldn't seem to stop.

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Her name was Kashmina Sroversky or rather Kashmina Hiiragisawa now.

Tomoyo smiled scornfully at the thought of this. It had been Tomoyo's mother who had introduced Kashmina to them. It was at a dinner party some time ago, when Tomoyo and Eriol were still engaged. That had been a very long time ago.

Kashmina was a couple years younger than they were at that time; just freshly out of Cambridge when Eriol and Tomoyo met her. She was a very pretty girl with a head of golden curls and round blue-gray eyes. There was a certain oddness to her, a certain excitement. A pretty smile, a pretty face; perhaps that was the reason.

It was over five years ago, Tomoyo still found herself wondering about why he left.

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The wedding reception was recklessly extravagant, Tomoyo decided, so unlike the quaint traditional wedding. She knew it must have been Kashmina who had arranged the rest of the evening, for Eriol had always preferred the old fashioned style of things. Tomoyo knew both of them so well.

The wedding reception was sprawled about in an enormous old Victorian courtyard that was part of an ancient manor house of some English lord. Three white outdoor tents were set up next to each other to form one long enclosure. The five-layered wedding cake was elaborately made and shipped in from Paris. The finest white silk and white calla lilies covered every piece of furniture. A pyramid of sparkling champagne glasses was situated in each tent. The exorbitant event spared no expenses and it seemed as though the entire elite class from all of Europe were present.

Tomoyo felt out of place. She had a special seat at the head table beside the bride and groom. She looked around her and studied the other bridesmaids. They all appear the same to her. The identical blonde hair and blue eyes; they were beautiful girls who sat together giggling and whispering.

She wondered how ridiculous she seemed now, sitting besides the blonde haired beauties with her raven hair and dark lavender eyes. She did not know why she even agreed to this absurd arrangement. Kashmina and she had been very close friends a few years ago, but when Eriol broke off the engagement, their friendship was left in ruins. She should not have been even invited to their wedding, and never should have been one of her bridesmaids. Yet she had agreed, out of courtesy of course.

It was always out of courtesy.

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Eriol and Kashmina were making rounds. They stopped at each table to say hello to their friends and family. Kashmina looked absolutely stunning tonight, Tomoyo had to admit. She had changed into yet another white gown of shimmering gossamer and chiffon. The seven-carat diamond ring on her finger was particularly distracting.

Eriol looked handsome and poised as always. He was dressed in a wonderfully made dark blue tuxedo, which accentuated the color of his eyes. He was smiling and a genuine sense of joy seemed to flow from him. Eriol's nonchalant mannerism seemed to match Kashmina's mercurial nature. They looked very happy together. Yes, they looked perfect together; they made sense together.

Tomoyo frowned, a grimace that came out of ache and regret. She endured a sort of pain that came out of deception and betrayal. She held no spite, no hatred for their relationship, but only pain and sorrow.

Tomoyo stood up, suddenly, and walked away. She wished the rain would start again.

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The grass was cold and wet against her feet. She headed away from the three raising white tents behind her. She had taken off her heels. She half ran and half walked towards the manor house.

The air felt refreshingly cool against her skin. It was that sort of calm crisp air that would settle after a rainstorm. It smelt damp, like saturated foliage.

She stopped to catch her breath. Her throat was dry and rough. She felt numb.

"Tomoyo!" someone was calling after her.

It was Eriol she knew but she started off again. She could feel her coiffure slipping and falling apart and she didn't care. She wouldn't care one bit if the sky were to come crashing down; if the ground beneath her feet was to ignite and crumble away.

"Tomoyo, what are you doing?" he was asking. He was right behind her. It began to rain again. A light drizzle that was characteristic of London. It was that sort of rain that never seemed to stop, when everything stayed the same.

"I'm not in love with you," she whispered.

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It had been the end of November when he packed his bags. He came home to the apartment they shared one night with his engagement ring in his pocket. He walked into their bedroom, took the suitcase from the closet. All she could do was stand in the doorframe and watch him pack in silence. Yet she was powerless to stop him. It had been his choice; it was as simple as that.

She didn't ask any questions because their pretenses were diaphanous. She had always known that life began with him and ended with him. She had always known that they loved because it suited them. She thought that they would know better, he would know better. She was wrong.

He had only called her once after that. He had asked her if he could have his favorite armchair back again, for it had been his to begin with. He came by to pick it up a few days later. Then he was gone again and all she could see was the emptiness he left behind.

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"I'm sorry, Eriol," she said. "But there is no place for me here."

He looked uncomfortable. There was a stiffness to him, as if he was somehow mechanical. The rain dampened his cloth and his hair fell plastered against his skin. She wanted to reach out and touch him and make sure he was real. She missed seeing him falling asleep beside her. She missed the way his skin folded and the way his eyes would light up when he saw her in the morning.

She smiled. A part of her was damaged; stale and tasteless. But a part of her was saturated; porous and forgiving. She knew that someday it would all make sense. This was just another day, seamless and fraying at the ends.

It had always been his choice, she respected that, now. It was meaningless to keep on ignoring the stain on the carpet.

"I'm happy for you, I really am. The wedding was beautiful and you both looked great. You are perfect for each other. I know that both of you will have a long and fulfilling life together. Thank you for inviting me. I'm pleased to know that you are happy. I'm sorry that I can't stay any longer. Please give my apologies to Kashmina," she was rambling, she knew. She felt a familiar stinging in her eyes. She blinked back the tears. "Congratulations, Eriol. I wish both of you the best in the world."

"Tomoyo, I---"

"Go back to the reception before anyone notices the groom is gone," she smiled. She stepped towards him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm okay. Just go."

He exhaled deeply. He studied her for a bit longer. There was a deep torture in his eyes; regret and guilt. _I love you_.

It came like that, and then it was gone, again like all the times before. She was only the space between pale and obscure. He was infinite, a hollow emptiness only the sky can fill.

Tomoyo held her breath as his silhouette disappeared across the wet verdant grass. For a moment she thought she saw confetti, like Fourth of July fireworks. For a moment she thought that she was a shadow of a crow; his shadow, only more.

Only more. Only more.

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Author's Notes: I'm rather glad that this is finally over with. I started this fic sometime last year. I must have written and deleted passages and sentences a hundred times before I decided on this final draft. It seems that this fic is sort of choppy and equivocal. I hope you could follow all of that.

Part of the reason this fic was so difficult for me to write was because I felt like I was repeating my other fics. I have to admit several of my stories sound the same. The theme was almost always based around goodbye and letting go. This time, I really tired to send a different message in addition to my usual theme. I think this piece is more about self-discovery and self-definition. This is about identity, selfdom. This is about defoliating out of pretenses and achieving _being_.

I know I am about to be chastised for breaking up Eriol and Tomoyo again. I do have a preference for tragedies. There are plenty of good Eriol and Tomoyo fics out there. But it seems like people don't like writing about how Eriol and Tomoyo break up. I want to write about the couple for a different perspective.

I know that this fic is difficult to understand. I think I wrote it in a weird sort of streaming of prose and poetry. I hope that in reading this you won't try so hard to interpret it, but instead to just conceive and accept it as it is.

Thank you for reading. Please review before you leave.


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